My Beautiful Contradiction
by LadyofHuntingandHobbits
Summary: Morgan lives without hope. Without fear. Without belonging. When he literally falls on her doorstep, she has no idea how to react. Two broken souls can meld into one, but only if you let them. And later, can she save him when he needs it the most? NOT MarySue. Rating to be safe for now but will definitley change in later chapters. Loki/OC.
1. A Surprise Vist

**Alright, so my friend came forward with the idea of doing a 30-day Drabble challenge. I had wanted to do a Loki/OC fic for a while, and had pretty much planned it already. This gave me the opportunity to actually write it. Still working on it, but I got this first chapter polished and readied so here it is!**

***insert disclaimer here***

**Let's begin…**

* * *

Morgan woke up to a blaring alarm clock, and her head greeting her with a beautiful hangover. What was that? Oh yeah, maybe she shouldn't have drunk so much last night. Again. Such was the life of a girl who had been left by her asshole of a fiancé and, working as a freelance writer, wasn't exactly on her feet financially. She figured that it might as well be worthwhile to get up and make some coffee.

She made sure to shut the blinds on her way to the kitchen.

After sitting down on the couch in her small, somewhat shabby apartment, she tried not to think of her ex. Everyone had told her he was trouble, but trouble was what she liked. Always had. She hated when things were no longer interesting.

Probably had something to do with her being a telepath. She chuckled. _Everything has to do with me being a telepath. Stupid mind powers._ It was why everyone left. Parents, boyfriends, friends in general, everyone. It was only a matter of time till they found out, flipped out, and left guessed that made it easier in the end, what with the various governments and agencies chasing her down. Nothing was ever simple when it came to Morgan. She figured it was about time she got used to it.

* * *

Relaxation only came every once in a while, and it was something hard fought. Morgan had to literally combat her powers to 'sit down and shut up' long enough for her to calm down and collect herself.

It was the only time she realized that her sanity was increasingly fragile. Meditation helped, from what little she could tell from experimenting with it. No music, no writing, no memories, no hearing people's thoughts. Just letting her walls fall down, not even caring if someone detected her; not even thinking at all. That was the closest she ever got to peace.

Her fragment of tranquility was shattered as something slammed into her door with a loud _thud_ that rattled her whole wall. It took Morgan a minute to gather her faculties and even manage to get a grasp on the situation enough to figure out what to do. Of course, by that time her reflexes had already picked her up and had her standing in front of the door, throwing knives in both hands and ready to strike. It was startling what years of being hunted would do.

Morgan reached out with her mind to figure out what/who had startled her. She hit a wall. Seriously. She couldn't tell if it was even male or female. The only thing she did know was that it wasn't human, the walls were of foreign nature and too strong for humans (besides herself) to keep intact.

She went against her better judgment and opened the door, taking down her mental alarms and barriers that were designed to keep assassins -and pretty much everyone else- out. It was a very risky move but it was the only way to get answers.

Lying there, on her doorstep, was a young man -about Morgan's age- wearing black and green. Oh yeah, and he was unconscious. That's just what Morgan needed; an unconscious (not human) man that scared the mess out of her when he landed in front of her door and she had no idea what to do with. Well, she at least needed to get him inside, in order to not attract attention.

* * *

When he woke up tied to a chair and facing Morgan, who was sitting nonchalantly on the couch, he was obviously a little startled. She could tell he was gathering his thoughts and figuring out how exactly he came to be in this situation. He looked up and caught her gaze, unflinching. They analyzed each other intently, neither one being able to slip past the other's defenses. The walls were simply too strong.

Finally Morgan spoke, "Who the hell are you?"

He blinked. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me. I asked you who you were. It's a simple question," She remarked.

"I am Loki, of Asgard." He said it without emotion, his face blank. Like he took no pride in it. It certainly did not escape her notice. Asgard? Loki? That was Norse Mythology, but she could hear the honesty in his voice. And looking at him now, she knew it was the truth. This was certainly no human, he was a god.

Of course, she didn't want him to know that she had figured him out.

"That's ridiculous. You really expect me to believe that?"

"Of course" He looked slightly surprised that she had not accepted his statement.

"How do I know you're not some highly-trained assassin with excellent lying skills and mental defenses like you wouldn't believe?" She countered.

He stared at her, disbelieving. "I am no mortal. Do not discredit me by affiliating me with one of your human enemies." He thought for a moment, looking at her emotionless face, and then said "What would it take for me to convince you?"

"Show me."

"You don't want me to do that." His tone was completely serious.

Morgan arched an eyebrow. "And why not?"

He stared at her darkly, as if daring her to question him again.

She smiled inwardly, once again enjoying a challenge. "We can sit here and try to breach each other's walls, as we have been doing during this entire conversation, and still get nowhere, or you can let me in and I will see whether you are telling the truth. Then we will decide if I should let you stay, or kill you."

He chuckled, "That is not very likely."

She grinned, defiant as always. "Try me."

Almost immediately he dropped his defenses and attacked, with one phrase being carried forward: "I am the god of mischief, magic, and lies. You cannot kill me, mortal."

Morgan used his anger and agitation as a diversion for her to slip around, and drove into his memories, wanting to know as much about why he was here as she could. Nothing was safe from her prying mind, not even emotions.

He sat back, shocked at her intrusion. It was clear from his expression that he had never met anyone so bold.

What Morgan saw shocked her. He really was Loki, a god from Asgard. That had been obvious before. But what shocked her was the pain he harbored. He had been the second-best, the one left behind. Always living in the shadow of the one he loved above all; his brother Thor. But everything had changed when Thor had been banished to Earth, and Loki had discovered his true parentage: Laufey, a Frost Giant.

Loki hated himself.

This realization caused Morgan to extract herself from his mind. She was shocked at the position she was in, leaning over him in his chair and hands placed on either side of his head. He was staring at her in disbelief, eyes wide. "What did you see?" he asked shakily.

She gathered her composure and attitude as quickly as possible. She picked up one of her knives and cut the restraints slowly, never taking her eyes off him. She wanted to keep him guessing for as long as possible.

Reaching over to hover beside his ear, she whispered "You seem pretty tired from your fall off the Bifrost. I suggest you get some rest." She pulled back and smiled sweetly, turning on her heel and sauntering back to her room. She felt his eyes on her back the entire way.

* * *

**Hope you like Morgan, she was actually really fun to write. This will be a pretty long fic, starting from right after Loki fell offf the Bifrost and continuing till (a little after) the end of The Avengers.**

**I have no idea when I will get the next chapter up, but I have most of it completed (I think).**

**Leave some love, please?**


	2. Playing Chess

**Next chapter is finally ready! I had some fun with this one, but kept changing it around. I hope you like the outcome.**

**I own nothing but my OC and my own ideas**

**Moving on…**

* * *

When Morgan woke up, it took her exactly 6.8 seconds to remember what had happened the night before. _I have a Norse god with emotional issues sitting in my living room. Right. Simple. _Well, at least he knew of her powers now. That's one less awkward conversation.

She walked into the room, finding him sitting exactly where he had been before. He was awake and obviously watching her every move. She decided to play it cool, walking over to make some coffee. And, of course, he kept staring after her.

"So, you sat there all night?"

"Yes."

"Intend on moving? I have some coffee going if you'd like some."

"I'm fine."

Oh, so he was intent on playing nonchalant and distanced? Well too bad, she was already intent on doing that. Two really _can_ play at that game.

"Fine?" she questioned, sounding innocent.

"I do believe that is what I said." It was obvious he did not enjoy her games.

She circled back around until she was standing in front of his chair, and cocked her head to the side. "I am aware that's what you said, but is it what you meant?"

He narrowed his eyes. "Why do you care?"

She sighed softly, looking back through memories. "Because I know what it's like to be rejected and abandoned." Wait, where was the cool attitude she was going to project? Ugh, what she had seen had gotten to her after all.

"Would you like me to list them for you? You aren't the only one who gained memory access to the other." That caught her slightly by surprise. Just how much had he seen?

Well, one thing was obvious. They both like toying with emotions and mental structures, manipulating, and playing mind games. _This just might be fun._

She smiled coyly and began walking back to her room. "Coffee's in the kitchen," she tossed back over her shoulder.

"Morgan." She froze. "Thank you for letting me stay here."

_Fun, that is, until we start being honest with each other._

* * *

They didn't speak for a long time, once she came back into the room with her computer. Morgan was writing; Loki was thinking. No one really wanted to break the silence. It was strangely peaceful. Peace was something they were both pretty foreign too, so it was preserved as long as possible.

Finally Loki asked her a question. "What exactly are you doing?"

"Writing."

He furrowed his brow. "Writing what?"

"My book." Her answers were curt, but not too sharp.

"What kind of book?"

She couldn't tell if he was trying to make conversation or genuinely curious. She turned to face him, expression slightly snappish. "I'm a writer, it's what I do. I write. I sell them to publishing companies, who give me money and royalties in return. It's not much, not with the popularity of my work. But I make enough to get by. That's all that matters."

Loki was curious. " 'Get by?' I'm not familiar with this term."

Morgan's response was bitter and harsh. "No, I wouldn't think so. It's hard being a prince, isn't it? To never have to worry about paying bills or buying food or where your money comes from. To never have to earn a living."

"Don't judge me, Morgan. Just because I am from a different world and social status does not mean you understand where I come from."

She made no response, only resumed typing.

* * *

Morgan tried to think while she was writing. She had no idea what she was doing anymore. What was she supposed to do with Loki? Kick him out? Get to know him? Be nice? Beat him at chess? For that's what their relationship (if she could even call it that) felt like at times: a massive game of chess. Each look, gesture, and sentence was a move. A play for the upper hand. A vie for power. And yet, they were almost always equal.

The only thing she knew was that it was never boring. They were learning boundaries and personalities, dislikes and interests. It was a beautiful mess. A chess game.

* * *

Loki took a moment to ponder what had occurred since he had met Morgan O'Connor.

The few days after he had fallen from the Bifrost were still hazy in his mind. He remembered a significant sensation of falling, and thinking that it would never end. The next thing he remembered was waking up on the street, obviously very early in the morning when most people were still in their homes. He stumbled for a few –what was it, days?- being guided by nothing whatsoever.

Then, almost out of nowhere, he felt an overwhelming force drawing him. He now knew it to be Morgan, but then all his crazed and exhausted mind could register it as was unrestrained power being let out, drawing him in.

The first time he saw Morgan, he was tied to a chair with her facing him, interrogation-style. She manipulated him into being aggressive, and then slipped her way into his mind, seeing memories and more. Her intrusion had shocked him, but he was almost surprised she did not attempt to force her way into his mind.

She was tricky, sneaky. She was also mentally unstable (as were most, even gods, with the level of her power) and scheming, with that extra-dangerous dose of calculating.

And he was the god of Mischief. Loki figured that they would either get along, or kill each other.

* * *

His staring was starting to wear on her nerves. "You know, If you have questions, you can ask me. You don't have to stare or keep poking at my mind," Morgan quipped. "It's quite rude."

Loki gave a half-hearted grin. "I don't mean to pry."

"Well, considering I have no idea how long you will be staying and barely know anything about you, I think it's time we got to know each other." Her voice was edged, yet… tentative. She shut her computer with a defined _snap_ and leaned forward to rest her forearms on her thighs, fingers laced together. "So, tell me 'bout yourself," she drawled, "_Loki."_

"That depends on what you don't already know."

She smiled, slowly and almost predatorily. "Guess."

"I never guess."

"Fine then. Tell me about your family."

He tensed visibly. She had hit a nerve, as expected. He glared at her, knowing she had purposefully thrown a hypothetical knife at him. "No," he said sharply.

"Really?" she said, trying to sound innocent. "Not even Thor?" She twisted the knife, burying it further.

Loki had had quite enough. He leaped across the table separating them, startling Morgan and kicking in her reflexes. She was around the couch and edging towards the door when he caught her. She was fast, but Loki was faster.

She blinked and he had her flipped around, then backed her up against the wall. She gasped, panicking but unable to move. He pinned her wrists to the wall above her head and leaned in towards her face, expression razor sharp.

"Don't."

Her eyes widened in surprise. His voice had not come from where she expected, the body currently pinning her to the wall. It had come from the middle of the room.

The shade in front of her disappeared and she could see where Loki was truly standing, where his voice had actually come from. A word crossed her mind. _Magic. _She could only stare in shock.

"Don't toy with me, Morgan O'Connor. You may not like the outcome."

* * *

**Fun, fun, fun, right? ****Don't worry, they will figure all this out soon**

**It will be longer this time before I have another chapter up, this one I have planned but not written. After that updates will come quite quickly.**

**Leave some love!**


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